


No I in Team

by Churbooseanon



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 12:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1818724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Churbooseanon/pseuds/Churbooseanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wash doesn’t feel like part of the team, for all of Tucker’s efforts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No I in Team

**Author's Note:**

> Another RvB Happy Hour request, this time set outside of the Epsilon unit in Season Nine.

“What are you doing out here?”

Wash didn’t bother to turn around. The voice told him enough. It was Tucker behind him, annoyed, and unlikely to do anything about it. Wash just kept sitting on the edge of the parapet, watching the distance, battle rifle by his side. There was no way the Reds were going to try anything but he was bored and he hated interrupting the oddly companionable air Tucker and Caboose seemed to share even when they were fighting.

“Watching,” Wash answered, not that he needed to say anything to the simulation soldier.

“What the fuck are you supposed to be watching? Sarge never does anything after sundown. He’s pretty fucking predictable like that. Just come down and have dinner.”

He didn’t want to, didn’t want to be around that sense of companionship that Tucker and Caboose had because it was too easy, too familiar, too strange at the same time.

“You’re fucking useless. I’ll have Caboose leave something behind in the fridge.”

* * * * * *

“You’re out here again.”

The parapet was nice, high, perfect. Put him away from the others, put him in a place to control things. Not that there was anything to control out here. A box canyon with a waterfall on one end, a beach on the other. Lots of empty space between, and it’s peaceful. Tranquil. There is nothing out there that can threaten him. Nothing in here to be part of.

“What do you want, Tucker?”

“You missed supper again.”

“And your point is?”

“You’re upsetting Caboose.”

“Still not seeing your point.”

Tucker sighed and Wash listened to his feet walk away.

* * * * * *

“Come down from there.”

“You should just give up,” Wash sighed on the third night. “I’m not part of your team.”

He was growing accustomed to the sound of Tucker’s boots retreating.

* * * * * *

“No. We’re done with this,” Tucker declared on week two.

“Done with what?” Wash asked, staring out at the darkness.

“I’m pretty tired of you up there.”

With a sigh Wash pushed off the edge, landed crouched by Tucker, and stood to his full height which towered over Tucker by quite a bit, and damn if the aqua clad soldier didn’t face him down as if it was nothing.

“Yeah, if you think that will impress me then you’re stupid. Junior’s taller than you,” Tucker snapped, and frankly Wash had no clue who Junior was so how was that supposed to impress him?

“What the fuck do you want, Private Tucker?” Wash growled, and damn he knew he was intimidating but this asshole would not back down.

“You owe Caboose, you get that, right? We could have left you dead back at Sidewinder, or left you alive for the UNSC. You’re only here right now because he wanted to help you. So you owe him.”

“Owe him what?”

“A teammate. A friend. I don’t know. Whatever he fucking wants. So start acting like it.”

“I’m none of those things,” Wash pointed out.

“Then fake it.”

* * * * * *

Week three and Wash found himself pinned to the parapet after he jumped down at Tucker’s command.

“You really think that’s going to hold me?”

“No,” Tucker admitted, and Wash could hear the smirk in his voice and that didn’t make any sense.

“Listen, I’ve done what you wanted. I’ve spent time with Caboose. I’m trying to act like a leader. I’m trying to train you. What more could you possibly want from me?”

“To stop faking,” Tucker ordered, and Wash didn’t point out how stupid it was. But there were hands fumbling at his helmet and all he can do was watch and wait, hold his breath because it made no sense.

“Tucker,” he sighed, his hands coming up to catch those of the aqua clad soldier. “What…”

“Caboose is simple,” Tucker answered. “It’s easy for him to make this all work.”

“And you?” Wash asked, letting go and Tucker’s fingers fumbled again and Wash listened to the gasp of air that comes with the seal being broken, watched as Tucker lifted the helmet up and tossed it aside. Waited as Tucker’s hands went to his own helmet.

“I’ve always been a bit harder than that.”

“Bow chicka bow wow?” Wash asked, and he couldn't help but laugh as Tucker froze for just a second.

They laughed, hard and free and Wash’s head tilted back because it felt good to laugh. Felt different. He hasn’t felt this in years. He stopped when a hand tangled in his hair and tugged him down into a very rough kiss and when the fuck did Tucker get that helmet off?

“I’d prefer to keep you to be a bit closer,” Tucker purred when he pulled back.

“Seems like you want me a _lot_ closer.”

“Oh hell yeah, tons closer,” Tucker growled before pulling him into another kiss. It failed only because Wash held himself apart.

“Why?”

“Ask me that in a year.”

“That long?” Wash chuckled.

“And more if you’ll give me a chance. And trust me, I intend to prove you belong here.”

The intensity on his face was enough for Wash to believe him. Or at least give him the chance.


End file.
